


Baby Mine (Be My Baby)

by anythingbutplatonic



Category: Glee
Genre: AU, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-03 19:26:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4112287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anythingbutplatonic/pseuds/anythingbutplatonic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Just weeks after he confessed to cheating when Kurt left for New York, Blaine discovers he’s pregnant. There’s no doubt in his mind that the baby is Kurt’s, but there’s no way anyone can know. Distraught after the break-up and afraid of being judged if anyone finds out, he decides to hide his pregnancy….until he can’t anymore. AU, obviously. </p><p>Warnings: Angst, suggestions of depression/depressive thoughts, graphic descriptions of labour and childbirth.</p><p>Originally completed on Tumblr April 22nd 2014.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

1\. 7 weeks

_This is not happening._

_There is no way that this is happening. Not now._

_Not like this._

Finding out that you’re pregnant is supposed to be a happy event. It’s supposed to be something to celebrate, something to throw a party for and tell all your friends about,  _We’re having a baby!_  It’s supposed to be something that brings joy, not sadness.

It’s definitely not supposed to happen like this, when you’re completely and utterly alone in the world, with no-one to talk to because no-one will understand, when every breath feels like you’re gasping for air, when every look or word said in your direction feels like a judgement on your character, and when you know that all of this is because you brought it on yourself. And because of that, no-one can help you.

That’s what it was like when Blaine, both far too late and much too soon, realized that he was pregnant. 

It was Kurt’s baby. He knew it was. There was no question about that. It was just something he  _knew_ , instantly, as soon as he saw the blue plus sign appear in the narrow window of the pregnancy test he’d taken at school, hunched up in a bathroom stall in between classes, hands shaking and his shirt sticking to his back with cold sweat. 

The baby was Kurt’s. There was no doubt in his mind about that.

Was this some kind of joke?

 

This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. They weren’t supposed to be broken up. They weren’t supposed to be hundreds of miles apart. They weren’t supposed to be over. It was never supposed to be over. 

But it was, and it was all Blaine’s fault, and there wasn’t a single day since it had happened that he hadn’t hated himself for it. 

And now there was something to remind him of that very fact - that he’d ruined everything. The universe was punishing him by giving him Kurt’s child.

Hurriedly, he wrapped the used test in a strip of toilet paper and stuffed into the bottom of his school bag, thinking that he’d dispose of it as far from both his own house and McKinley as possible, so that there was no chance of it being traced back to him. 

Then he left the bathroom, walking quickly in the direction of his next class and trying to think of something, anything, else.

2\. 17 weeks

Christmas was coming up and Blaine was ignoring the signs that he was in trouble.

He ignored it when his favourite pair of pants didn’t button comfortably one morning when he was dressing for school, choosing to keep them shut with a safety pin he found in the kitchen drawer than acknowledging he needed bigger pants because his body was changing. 

He ignored it when a Cheerio brushed past him in the hallway and the smell of her perfume made him gag into his open locker.

He ignored it when he got dizzy on a spin in Glee practice and had to sit down while it passed over him, leaving him light-headed and weak at the knees.

If he acknowledged it, it meant acknowledging that he’d screwed up so much more than everyone else thought he had. They just thought he had cheated - which he had, of course, as he was reminded every night when he closed his eyes and saw Kurt’s face imprinted on his mind, eyes glassy with tears,  _How could you?_  on his lips.

If this was to be his punishment - if to be made to bear Kurt’s child in silence was his punishment - then so be it. He would take it. He deserved it. 

Their child deserved more, but whatever that “more” was, it wasn’t his to give. 

No-one could ever know.

3\. 25 weeks

It was Valentine’s Day and it wasn’t just the cut-out hearts plastered all over the cafeteria or the sickeningly-sweet kisses exchanged by the couples of McKinley High that were making him nauseous.

It was getting harder and harder to hide his pregnancy from the rest of the world. He could only go up a certain amount of sizes in his clothes before his mom noticed that they were suddenly much too big for someone of his stature and build - and Blaine certainly didn’t expect her to believe that clothes had the ability to  _expand_  in the wash. Shrink, yes. But clothes just didn’t get bigger overnight. 

Blaine, however, did - or at least, it seemed that way to him. He woke up one morning and noticed how he’d ballooned, his belly smooth and round and taught. Looking at himself in the mirror was torture. Maybe he would do what the Beast did, and cover up all the mirrors in the house so he wouldn’t have to see his own reflection.

Judging by his own calculations, he was almost six months pregnant now. Only three more months to go. It seemed like an awfully long time to keep something like this a secret, but he had no other choice.

Kurt had called him on Valentine’s Day, just when he was falling off to sleep. The jarring ring of his cellphone startled him, and he reached for it blindly, his eyes half-closed with drowsiness. It was 11:30pm.

“Kurt?” Blaine had said, not trusting himself to speak above a whisper. “Why are you calling so late?"  _Why are you calling so late?_ Was that all he could find to say? 

"I wanted to wish you a happy Valentine’s Day,” he said simply. “I just - Valentine’s Day has always been our thing and even though we’re broken up and we haven’t spoken more than two words to each other in months I just really,  _really_  missed you.” And Kurt’s voice breaks, and so does Blaine’s heart, all over again, because dammit,  _Kurt wasn’t supposed to sound like this_. “I wanted to hear your voice. I think I needed it, after so long…I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Blaine replied, finding his voice. “Really, really don’t apologize.” His free hand drifted to his belly, and he smoothed over the skin with his palm in wide circles, without noticing it. It was the first time he’d let himself touch his body since he found out he was pregnant, but he didn’t realize that then.  _I don’t even know what to say to him._  “It sucks without you.”

There was silence on the end of the phone. The hand on his belly stilled, his palm warm and comforting. It was a simple gesture, but it somehow…made him not feel as awful as he had been feeling for the last few months. He could feel all the negative thoughts being pushed to the edges of his mind, away from the centre, where he might dwell on them and blow them out of all proportion. 

“It sucks without you, too,” came Kurt’s small voice over the line. “Don’t tell anyone I told you this, but - I miss you. There. I said it. I know I said it before, but know I’m actually  _saying_  it, I’m declaring it for your ears. I miss you. And maybe part of that is due to the fact that it’s Valentine’s Day and I’m alone and Rachel isn’t here and my dad and Carole are out on a date so I can’t call them to talk, but…I guess it’s not entirely unbearable to talk to you. It’s nice, actually." 

"It’s nice talking to you, too, Kurt.” Blaine replied. “It’s…you don’t know how awful things have been for me…I thought I’d lost you. Forever. But maybe now….” he trailed off, searching for the right words. He started to rub his belly again, feeling the baby squirm almost imperceptibly beneath his palm. “We can be friends? If nothing else, please say we can be friends.”

“I’d like that.” Kurt said quietly. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Blaine.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

He hung up, and held his phone to his chest for a few moments, as if trying to preserve the phone call they’d just had, the sound of Kurt’s voice, as if he was transmitting it directly into his heart so that he could keep it and remember it. 

He actually felt guilty for keeping the baby a secret from Kurt. It wasn’t right to keep him in the dark, but he just wasn’t ready for that kind of revelation, that kind of big (and getting bigger) commitment, just yet. It might be the pair of scissors that would come along and cut the fragile string that stretched between them in half, the ends falling where they couldn’t reach, and then Kurt really would be gone forever.

No. For the time being, this was between him and whoever it was that was growing inside him. It would be just the two of them, until he was ready. Until he stopped feeling ashamed. Until he could admit that he was, in fact, falling love with this baby - just a little at a time, but falling all the same. 

Looking in mirrors might be torture, but perhaps being pregnant no longer had to be.

4\. 28 weeks

He’d dropped out of Glee months ago, shouting down the protests from Tina and Sam and Artie and the others. At first, he’d sat at the back of the choir room instead of participating, shielding his belly from the sight of his friends in case they noticed something and asked questions he couldn’t answer.

Now Sam was determined to find out why he’d been so secretive.

“C'mon, dude. You’re supposed to be my best friend. We  _are_  best buds, aren’t we? You’re supposed to tell me stuff. I told you about my wet dream about Hugh Jackman after I watched  _Wolverine_ for the first time!”

Blaine hated lying, least of all to Sam, who’d been so sweet and considerate, giving Blaine his space when he asked for it and not prying where he wasn’t wanted. He was one of the few people who hadn’t treated him like a pariah when the real reason why he and Kurt broke up had been made public in the Glee club. 

“It’s personal, Sam, I’m sorry. I just don’t know how to talk about it yet. But I’m okay, I promise.”

He had to make Sam believe that he was fine. He couldn’t let him get too close to the truth, however much it hurt to lie to him when he’d been such a good friend and a shoulder to cry on. 

Sam looked like a kicked puppy when he said, “Okay. I respect that. But just so you know, I’m rooting for you,” and walked away.

5\. 31 weeks

Nationals. Graduation. It was all happening so fast.

And so, as he’d discovered in alarm when he’d checked his calendar, was his due date.

There were only eight weeks left. Eight short weeks and then - what? A pregnancy was much easier to hide than a warm, living, breathing,  _screaming_  baby.

Maybe he could go away, leave Lima, have the baby somewhere else and be just the two of them, alone together. That way he could keep his dignity and feel like he wasn’t as much of a screw-up. 

6\. 38 weeks

Blaine was now officially a high school graduate, and he had the cap, gown, and diploma to prove it.

Walking across a stage in front of hundreds of people when you were nearly 9 months pregnant was not easy by a long shot. The deep ache in his spine from the baby pressing on it, plus his or her incessant kicking throughout the ceremony, was almost enough to make him want to turn around and go home.

But he made it, just. He hugged Tina and Sam, careful to keep just enough distance between them that they wouldn’t notice how big he’d got. He wasn’t ready for them to know yet. He’d tell them some day, but not now, not at graduation, when there were already so many other people around who might overhear.

For now, all he had to worry about was going into labour. 

7\. 39 weeks

Waiting around was torture. He felt like he was walking on eggshells - around everyone. He was constantly aware that he could go into labour at any minute, and that put him on edge. 

He’d heard from Kurt much more frequently since their talk on Valentine’s Day, which felt like a century ago, when in reality it had only been a few months. Every time, he’d been close to telling him about the baby, but every time, he’d changed his mind, backed out with the words half-formed on his lips;  _I’m having your baby_. 

Most of the time, he rested up in his room, his legs stretched out in front of him with his sore, swollen ankles up on a pile of cushions. His back ached, his hips ached, his whole  _body_  ached. 

It wouldn’t be long now.

8\. 40 weeks, 2 days

It had been easy enough to dismiss it.

He’d been in almost constant pain for the last week and a half, and being overdue - from his own calculations - didn’t help. Every time he sat down or stood up, the searing pain in his back brought tears to his eyes and he had to grit his teeth against the pain so that his mom wouldn’t notice. 

So when he felt a particularly sharp twinge at the base of his spine when he got up from the table after dinner, he didn’t think anything of it, not really. Pain was like a second language to him now. It didn’t even register in his mind.

He didn’t take notice of it when the pain got worse a few hours later, either. He simply took a couple of painkillers, filled a hot water bottle to take with him to bed to ease the pain, and forgot about it.

Until he woke up several hours later, pain lacing his back and his belly, and the sheets underneath him damp with his broken waters and his own hot, prickling sweat, clutching the pillow next to him as if it were something precious he did not want to part with, simply for something to hold onto.

It was time, and there was no way he was going to be able to get through it alone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Just weeks after he confessed to cheating when Kurt left for New York, Blaine discovers he’s pregnant. There’s no doubt in his mind that the baby is Kurt’s, but there’s no way anyone can know. Distraught after the break-up and afraid of being judged if anyone finds out, he decides to hide his pregnancy….until he can’t anymore. AU, obviously.
> 
> Warnings: Angst, suggestions of depression/depressive thoughts, graphic descriptions of labour and childbirth.

_He didn’t take notice of it when the pain got worse a few hours later, either. He simply took a couple of painkillers, filled a hot water bottle to take with him to bed to ease the pain, and forgot about it._

_Until he woke up several hours later, pain lacing his back and his belly, and the sheets underneath him damp with his broken waters and his own hot, prickling sweat, clutching the pillow next to him as if it were something precious he did not want to part with, simply for something to hold onto._

_It was time, and there was no way he was going to be able to get through it alone._

The pain was unbearable.

It was like being held in a vice, but worse. He couldn’t breathe. Sweat soaked his clothes and stuck his hair to his forehead. He gripped the sheets in his fists hard enough to turn the knuckles white, and bit his lip so hard to keep from crying out that he tore the skin and bled, hot and tasting like iron, making his stomach turn.

He twisted so that he was lying on his side, hoping to alleviate some of the pain from his hips and the base of his spine, but it did nothing to help when another contraction seared through him and a fresh sweat broke out over his already hot and sticky skin, leaving him gasping for breath and whole body shaking with the force of it.

Whimpering, he rolled onto his back again and tried to push himself up, weak as his body felt, so that he wasn’t lying flat on the bed. He kicked the duvet out of the way, sighing with momentary relief when the cool air of the room hit the exposed skin of his arms, face, and legs. Eventually he was able to get into a half-sitting, half-lying position, and from this angle he could see the way his belly had dropped, the baby resting much lower than he remembered before he’d gone up to bed. He knew he must have been in labour while he was sleeping, but he hadn’t felt it until now, when it had finally woken him up. Knowing what the pain was like now, he had no idea how he’d managed to sleep through it for as long as he had. 

 

Gingerly, he placed his hands on his belly. The skin was itchy and tight, solid beneath his palms. He could vaguely feel the baby moving, squirming to get into the right position to be born. 

 _Holy crap_ , Blaine thought.  _Holy crap. I’m actually doing this. This is actually happening. I’m going to have a_ baby.

He panted hard through another contraction, the pain making his eyes water terribly, tears dripping down his cheeks. It was better than yelling out. His mom, who was sleeping in the next room, might hear him.

 _His mom_. He had only realized at that very moment that he couldn’t stay here, that he would have to somehow get to a hospital. There was no way he could have the baby here, in his own house, in his own  _bed_ , and keep it a secret from his parents. Luckily, it was only his mom tonight, since his dad was away on a business trip and wouldn’t be back until the following week, but the thought of confronting her like this - seeing the inevitable disappointment and shame on her face when she found out about everything - was unthinkable. 

But he was scared, and suddenly very lonely. 

He wanted Kurt. He wanted Kurt here to hold his hand and stroke his sweat-soaked hair away from his forehead, to rub his back and tell him to  _breathe, Blaine, you need to breathe, to keep on top of the pain_  and reassure him that everything was okay. That was how it should be happening. He should be in a hospital, with nurses and doctors and a midwife, with Kurt at his side and his parents and Kurt’s parents nervously waiting for news of their grandchild while they sipped dishwater coffee in the cafeteria.

But Kurt wasn’t here. He was in New York, probably sound asleep right now despite the incessant noise of the city that never slept, and had no idea that this was even happening.

He would have given anything for Kurt to be here. But he wasn’t, and quite frankly he had to admit that it was his own fault. He chose this. He chose to keep it a secret from not only Kurt, but from everyone he knew. You couldn’t complain about something you _chose_  to do. Could you?

A sudden, sharp contraction ripped him from his thoughts, and he barely had time to suppress his cry of pain before curling forward over his distended belly, tears streaming down his cheeks and willing the pain to  _go away, go away, please just go away_  and  _oh my God that was really strong too strong too much it hurts too much_.

He rested his forehead on the crest of his belly, trying to catch his breath. He didn’t notice the light turning on in the hallway, or the sound of his mom’s footsteps outside his door. 

He didn’t hear her soft knock, or her calling through the door, “Blaine? Are you okay, sweetie?”

Even if he had heard her, he didn’t have the energy to reply. He was just so  _drained_. Every inch of his body felt like it was being pummelled with rocks. His legs shook and his lower body ached horribly. And it wasn’t even over yet, not even close to being over, because he would know if it was. You could call it a maternal (or in this case, paternal) instinct.

“Blaine?” his mom called, louder, pushing open the door, but again, he didn’t hear her, absorbed as he was in controlling his breathing so that he didn’t start hyperventilating. 

When she touched a hand to his shoulder, he flinched violently, shrinking away from her touch as it if were poisonous. He turned, trying to shield as much of his body from her view as possible. She couldn’t see him like this. He wouldn’t let her.

But, as before, his body betrayed him. As another contraction gripped his body, he fought hard to keep his breathing even and not make a sound, but it was too much for him to bear. He gave up, crying out, and then began to sob, great, heaving sobs that seemed to wrack his whole body.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” he managed to croak out, his cheek pressed to his knees. “I screwed up, I’m sorry. I’m so, so, sorry.”

“What happened?” his mom asked quietly. She put a hand on his back, a comforting gesture, and this time he didn’t flinch away from her.

“I screwed up,” he repeated, his voice muffled by the fabric of his pyjamas. “Again. I didn’t mean for it to go this far…I was just  _scared_  and lonely and I didn’t know what to do so I lied and the longer I kept lying the longer I put off telling people and….I’m so screwed.”

He bit down, hard, on the skin of his knee as the pain came again, a rising wave that broke in agony and sent fresh tears running down his cheeks. When he’d caught his breath, he carried on speaking, more carefully now, afraid to say out loud what he’d been trying, on both an unconscious and conscious level, to deny for the last six or so months.

“I got pregnant,” he ground out, his voice shaking, “after we - me and Kurt - broke up. Well, it was before then, obviously, but I only found out after we broke up, when it was - too late. I kept it a secret all this time because I didn’t want people to judge me. I didn’t want Kurt to hate me any more than he already did because of what I’d done.” Forcing himself to look at his mom, he rubbed a hand through his sweaty hair, making the damp curls stand on end. “And the baby is - coming, right now. I don’t know how long I’ve been having contractions, but…it’s a long time. And it  _hurts,_ Mom, it really hurts. Like something is…tearing me in half. I think the baby is close to being born.” He whispered the final sentence, a sense of dread filling him.

He felt another sharp stab of pain and a sudden pressure right at the base of his belly, spreading from his hips to between his legs and back again, as if a large hand was pressing there. He groaned, heaving himself up to rest against the pillows. 

And heard his Mom give an audible gasp and a whisper, “Oh,  _Blaine_. I’m so sorry you had to go through this all by yourself. You never told  _anyone?_ ”

Blaine shook his head, squinting in the dim light of his bedroom through the sweat and tears that blurred his vision. He cried out at another powerful wave of pain, spreading through the bottom half of his body like fire. He must be getting close, he thought, for it to hurt like this. He had to be.

He felt a dip in the mattress where his Mom sat down next to him, and then her soft touch as she brushed his sweaty hair from his face. It was nice to have that kind of contact from someone again. He hadn’t experienced it in a long time.

It was almost as if Kurt was there, Almost.

There was that pressure again, stronger this time, leaving him gasping and writhing where he half-sat, half-lay, thrashing against the pillows without even realizing his body was moving. He didn’t feel in control of himself. It was as if something or someone else was controlling his body, dictating the way it should react. It was a strange and frightening feeling.

“How do you feel?” his Mom asked, in hindsight what would have been considered a stupid question given his situation. “I know I should call an ambulance to take you to a hospital, but - it doesn’t look like there’s going to be enough time.”

“I never wanted it to happen like this.” Blaine whispered, turning his head so that he could look at his Mom properly. His throat constricted with the emotion he could barely suppress, and he struggled to continue. “Everything’s gone wrong. Kurt was supposed to be here. He was supposed to help me.” He swallowed, shifted on the bed. “I need you to help me. I don’t know what to do now. Everything’s such a mess. I’ve screwed  _everything_  up.”

“We can start by getting you ready to have this baby,” his Mom smiled. “I promise I won’t leave you. I’ll be right here. And I’m going to make everything better, okay?”

“Okay.” Blaine replied. “I love you, Mom.”

“And I love you. And you’re going to be a really great father. I just know you are. Don’t worry about a thing.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Just weeks after he confessed to cheating when Kurt left for New York, Blaine discovers he’s pregnant. There’s no doubt in his mind that the baby is Kurt’s, but there’s no way anyone can know. Distraught after the break-up and afraid of being judged if anyone finds out, he decides to hide his pregnancy….until he can’t anymore. AU, obviously.
> 
> Warnings: None for this part.

It was all a blur after that.

He remembered bits and pieces. His Mom’s voice, telling him to push as he screamed and cried into his pillow. The lights of the ambulance outside turning his room red and blue. Trying to reach out his arms for the small, squirming bundle of the newborn baby - his baby - that his Mom held close while the paramedics lifted him onto a stretcher, but found that he didn’t have the strength.

He didn’t even remember his Mom telling him whether the baby was a boy or a girl. Maybe she didn’t.

Either he fell asleep in the ambulance on the way to the hospital, or he passed out from exhaustion; whichever it was, he didn’t wake up again until the following afternoon.

 

It took him a while to remember what had happened and where he was. His Mom was sitting in one of those horrible orange hospital chairs, flicking through a magazine but looking weary and pinched.It had all happened so fast, she’d barely had time to process what was going on. 

“Mom?” Blaine asked, his voice croaky with sleep and the dryness of thirst. “Mom, I want to explain, and apologize, for everything I’ve done.”

“Oh, honey,” she replied, putting her magazine aside. “You don’t have to say anything. You said everything you could have last night.”

“But I lied to you, and dad. I lied to  _everyone_. I kept it a secret and I shouldn’t have. I’m really sorry.”

“She’s really beautiful, you know,” his mom said suddenly. “Your daughter. You were too exhausted last night to get a good look at her but she is really something.”

“She is?” Blaine sniffed, feeling tears burn at the backs of his eyes. “It’s a girl?”

“It’s a girl,” his mom confirmed. “Completely bald except for a tiny wisp of hair right at the top of her head.”

“I wish I got to hold her.” Blaine heard himself saying, without realizing he was saying it. “I want to hold her. I want to see her.”

“You will, honey. You will. But there’s something I need to talk to you about first. When you were asleep, I called Burt and Carole and told them what happened…and Burt told Kurt. He’s on his way over here, he got the first flight out from New York.”

“Kurt’s coming here?” The words stuck in his throat like shards of glass. “He can’t! He can’t come here, I can’t - I can’t see him! Tell him not to come. Tell him it was a mistake. Tell him I don’t want him here!”

“But you do,” his mom said softly. “You do. I know you do, because when you were in labour, you asked for him. More than once. You probably don’t remember this but I saw you and I heard you. You wanted him there. You kept saying how different things would have been if you two hadn’t broken up. What you and Kurt had, you can still get that back.”

“I’m not so sure any more,” Blaine muttered, fiddling with a loose thread on his hospital blanket. “I lied to him. I cheated on him and then I lied to him. Not exactly Boyfriend of the Year criteria.”

“When he gets here, you should talk. It sounds like you have a lot to say to each other.”

What would he ever do without his Mom? He and his dad had never really been close - they were just too different. But he and his Mom had always been somewhat kindred spirits. He could  _talk_  to his Mom. He could tell her things he couldn’t tell his dad, or any other relative. If Kurt was his anchor, keeping him grounded, then his Mom was his rock, making sure that the ground he was anchored to didn’t crumble and fall away underneath him. 

His Mom stood up to go. “I’m gonna go to the cafeteria. Do you want something to drink or eat? You were out for a long time, you must be starving.”

Slowly, shakily, Blaine asked, “Can I - can I see my daughter now? Please?”“

"I’ll ask a nurse to bring her round to you.” His Mom said. “And, Blaine - congratulations. To the both of you. You’ll figure it out, I know you will.”

“Thanks.”

Blaine sagged against the pillows, staring aimlessly at nothing. His gaze flickered around the room, from the generic art print on the wall directly opposite his bed to the window with the yellow curtains on the right-hand wall, to the woollen blanket on top of his sheets which was surprisingly soft to the touch, given that hospitals weren’t exactly known for their comfortable sleeping apparatus. He didn’t even want to think about how much it would cost his parents for him to stay here, in a private room no less. 

Someone knocked on the door. It opened, and there was a voice he recognized, asking, “Can we come in?”

It was Tina. Or rather, it was Tina and Sam, their heads round the edge of the door as if they were afraid they’d be rejected. Tina was clutching what looked like a pink balloon. He could just about make out the words  _It’s a girl!_  written on it, distorted as the image was through the small frosted-glass window in the door. 

So his friends knew, too.

He suddenly felt so overwhelmed that he couldn’t think of a single thing to say to them. 

How do you explain six months of silence and lies and keeping secrets? He’d all but pushed them away, afraid that if they got too close they’d figure out the truth - and condemn him for it. 

“Do you want us to go? We can come back later if you want space. We totally get it. Right, Tina?”

This was Sam, breaking through his train of thought. 

“Totally. We understand if you don’t want any visitors.” Tina added. “Though I did get you a pretty cool balloon. It’s helium, so you can suck all the air out of it later and do silly voices if you want.”

“No! No, don’t go. You can - come in. You came all this way, I just - I thought you would hate me.”

“Why would we hate you?” Tina asked, coming into the room. “I mean, am I pissed that we’re supposed to be friends and that you’ve been lying to me this whole time? Yeah. But I get it. You were in a really bad place after you and Kurt broke up. If I’d gotten pregnant after I broke up with Mike, I wouldn’t want to tell anyone, either.”

“Um, thanks, I think. But I’m really glad you guys came, I…don’t know if I can stand being in here alone. Kurt’s getting here later and I am  _terrified_  of seeing him. What am I going to  _say_? They don’t sell Hallmark cards for this kind of thing. He’s going to hate me.”

“Nah, he won’t. I  _know_  Kurt. Not as well as I know you, but I know him.” Sam interjected. “He’ll do what he always does. He’ll be pissed for a few days, then he’ll get over it. Kurt doesn’t hold grudges. And anyway, you two are, like, soulmates. If you can’t figure it out, who can?”

“I’m not so sure. Things were going so  _well_ , y'know? We were actually getting somewhere, repairing the damage. Now…” Blaine trailed off, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. How could he have slept for so long and still feel tired? And why did he constantly feel like bursting into tears? 

There were two things he really wanted to do. He wanted to see his daughter, and he wanted to have a good, long cry about everything, with no-one to hold him back. He wanted to let it all out, just this once, in a way that he hadn’t really done since the break-up.

He hadn’t properly cried in  _months_. It would be a relief to be able to do it now.

But he couldn’t, because his friends were still here and didn’t want to cry in front of them. 

“Do you want us to leave?” Tina asked softly, reaching out to take his hand. He flinched at the contact, then hoped beyond hope that she hadn’t noticed. 

Blaine nodded, not daring to speak, because he knew the kinds of words that would come out of his mouth if he did. Unkind words, words that were not like him. It was better to stay quiet. 

Tina left the balloon behind when she and Sam left. It bobbed across the room on the gush of air brought in by the door opening and closing, and came to rest near the window. It turned so that  _It’s a_   _girl!_  was facing in his direction. 

He turned away from it, hunching down in the starched hospital sheets and forcing himself to sleep, hoping that he’d feel better when he woke up.

           _________________________________________________

Kurt sat in his father’s car for a good solid ten minutes before he actually made the decision to get out.

He’d taken a taxi from the airport and, once home, had showered and changed before getting right back into his dad’s car and driving in the direction of the hospital, not really giving much thought to where he was going or why he was going there. 

But of course, he knew why he was going there.

The phone call from his dad had been completely out of the blue. He didn’t usually call in the mornings - he was too busy in the shop - and so this particular call had been unexpected. Kurt himself had been in the middle of making a pot of coffee and was waiting for his toast to pop up when his cell rang, the Caller ID flashing  _Home_  across the screen.

Several hours later, here he was, sitting in a borrowed car in the parking lot of Lima Memorial Hospital, knuckles white from clutching the steering wheel so tight. Blaine was in there, in the hospital. Blaine and their child.

 _God, how did everything get so messed up?_  Kurt thought to himself, freeing a hand to scrub through his already untidy hair.  _It wasn’t supposed to happen like this._

He wasn’t sure what was worse. The fact that Blaine had lied about the baby or the fact that he’d felt he needed to.

“I’m a father,” he said out loud, to no one in particular. His voice was oddly loud in the quiet of the car. “I  _am_  a father. I’m nearly twenty and I’m a  _father_.” No matter on which word he placed the emphasis, it still sounded the same - absolutely terrifying. 

And…maybe not so terrifying at the same time? A baby, well, that was scary. But a baby with  _Blaine_? That didn’t sound so bad. If it had been someone else, anyone else, Kurt would probably have run a hundred miles in the opposite direction, moved to another country, changed his name. But not for Blaine. For Blaine, he would always stay. He wasn’t even sure himself why. He just knew that he would. 

The first thing he had to do was talk to him. If anything else, he wanted to see his face, hear his voice, feel the texture of his skin and the soft fabric of the clothes he wore. He missed his smell and his smile and the curls of his hair - when he didn’t plaster them to his head with hairgel, that is. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe it didn’t have to be so bad.

But he had to get out of the car first, which was proving quite the feat. 

 _C'mon, Hummel_ , he told himself sharply.  _You can do this. This is_ Blaine _, not a stranger. Blaine. You’re not afraid of_ Blaine _, are you?_ No, not afraid, he thought. Just….nervous. Wary. Unsure of what would happen. Would Blaine even want to see him, or talk to him at all? 

He’d never know if he didn’t go inside and ask. What was the harm in asking? He could do that. That was easy. It should be easy.

Kurt moved to open the door, then froze, for a moment contemplating putting the key back into the ignition and driving straight back to his house. No, he couldn’t do that. He’d come all this way. And he was being cowardly.  _This isn’t just about you anymore_ , he reminded himself.  _There are two other people involved in this. You can’t back out now._

Steeling himself, he took a deep breath and opened the door, clambered out into a gust of wind that blew his hair into his eyes. The sun was out and shining, but in the shade of the hospital the air was cool.

He shut the car door behind him, locked it, and made his way purposefully towards the visitor’s entrance of the hospital, not daring to look back out of the fear that he’d give in and run away, back home, back to New York, back without Blaine.

             ______________________________________________

She sees Kurt before Kurt sees her.

He’s standing close to the wall, by the long line of regulation orange hospital chairs for waiting patients and visitors, opposite the small reception desk of the maternity ward. He looks tired, his face pale and drawn, and his eyebrows are knitted together in a frown, or confusion, she can’t tell which. What strikes her is how  _flat_  he looks. Kurt was - is - always so animated, quick with his words and even quicker with his facial expressions. That, combined with his plain outfit of a soft, dark sweater and dark jeans, gives the impression of someone who has done a lot of thinking in a very short space of time. 

And, she thinks, he probably has. 

“Kurt!” she called out, and he looked round, spotted her, gave half of a smile. He moved towards her, slowly, as if he was unsure how to approach her. Since the break-up, she’d never really been sure how to act around her son’s ex-boyfriend. Not that she would see him often, since he was in New York and she in Ohio. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Kurt; on the contrary, she loved him very much. He was good for Blaine, and Blaine was good for him in return. They were evenly matched, like yin and yang, two sides of the same coin. 

“Mrs. Anderson,” he replied, keeping his gaze directed toward the floor. Who knew what was going through the poor boy’s head? “I don’t know I’m doing here. I don’t even know if I  _should_ be here.”

“Then why did you come?” It’s a prompt, a gentle push in the right direction. He needs to figure this out for himself, but who says she can;t give him a little help along the way? 

“Because of Blaine.” Kurt whispers, biting his lip and sucking in a sharp breath. “I came because of Blaine. Because somehow I just can’t stay away from him. No matter how hard I try, I just can’t let him go.” He turned toward her toward Blaine's  _mother_ , and  _oh, God, why am I telling all these things to Blaine's_ mother? “Why is that?”

“I think you know the answer to that, don’t you?” A smile, an inquisitive look. “Talk to him. He wants to see you. He may act like he doesn’t, but…it’s a defence mechanism. I know my son, and he’s afraid, Kurt. And I think you’re the only one who can make that fear go away.”

“Why are you so sure I can?” Kurt asked. 

“Because you always have.” Mrs. Anderson said simply. “Even without realizing it.”

Kurt contemplated this for a moment. As much as he hated to admit it, she was right. He and Blaine…there was something there that you didn’t come across every day. It wasn’t something you give up easily, nor voluntarily. Not when you were still so desperately in love with the other person that the very thought of never talking to or seeing them again was more painful than sustaining an actual physical injury. 

Kurt knew, then, what he had to do.“Which room is he in?”

“204.” Mrs. Anderson replied. “Just a little way down the hall.”

“And - and the baby?" 

Mrs. Anderson smiled again, so very like Blaine that Kurt was caught off guard. He and his mom were very much alike, in both looks and personality. 

"Sleeping soundly, last time I checked. Maybe Blaine will take you to her later, if you ask him. I know he wants to see her, but he’s been asleep most of the day and his emotions are running pretty high right now. Some alone time for the three of you may do him some good.”

 _The three of you_. The phrase sounded foreign to Kurt’s ears, but not unpleasant. It wasn’t the way he thought it would be. It was…better? Better, at least, than he’d anticipated. He hadn’t gone running for the hills yet, and that was something. He had to give himself credit for that. 

After that, he excused himself, Mrs. Anderson saying that she wanted to get some coffee from a machine she’d found somewhere on this floor. He let her go, though silently wishing  _he_  had coffee, or any beverage really, just to have something to do with his hands while he passed the row of rooms, looking for room 204. 198, 199, 200…most of them were unoccupied, Kurt noticed absently. 201, 202, 203, 204.

He stopped in front of room 204 and felt his heart pounding in his chest. Through the small window in the top of the door he could see Blaine, asleep, the blankets drawn up to his chin. In the very corner of the room there was a pink helium balloon, bobbing almost out of sight by the window. It said  _It’s a girl!_

Then he ran.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Just weeks after he confessed to cheating when Kurt left for New York, Blaine discovers he’s pregnant. There’s no doubt in his mind that the baby is Kurt’s, but there’s no way anyone can know. Distraught after the break-up and afraid of being judged if anyone finds out, he decides to hide his pregnancy….until he can’t anymore. AU, obviously.
> 
> Warnings: None for this part.

He ends up, inexplicably, at the gift shop, staring at the rows and rows of blue and pink objects; soft plush animals, tiny romper suits, commemorative pacifiers (ornamental use only), congratulations cards and balloons and God only knows what else. 

His eyes come to rest on a small, pink teddy bear with big blue eyes, a heart clutched in its front paws. The bear reminds him of Blaine. And that leads him right back to the reason he’s standing in the gift shop in the first place, because he ran from Blaine. He was a coward and ran from him, the father of his child, the man who, no matter what Kurt did to convince himself otherwise, he could not help but love.

And this stupid bear was rubbing his nose in his own cowardice, with eyes like Blaine’s and a face like Blaine’s and,  _God_ , even a  _smile_  like Blaine’s. Everywhere he looked, he saw Blaine. He couldn’t get the image of him out of his mind.

 _I am the world’s worst person. I suck. I don’t deserve to be here_.

 

Looking around at all the things stocked up on the shelves, he wondered about all the people who’d come through here. New fathers buying their sons their first toy car. A new mom searching for a pretty dress to take her daughter home in. A grandparent looking for that special pacifier that their grandchild will find, years upon years later, and remember that it was given to him or her by their grandparents when they were born. An aunt, an uncle, a friend, a godmother, a brother or sister. All these people had come through here and bought their new arrivals a gift, or two, or three, and would hurry to take them back and present them to the proud parents, who would be grateful for so much love and affection.

Without giving it a second thought, Kurt grabbed the pink bear from the shelf, paid for it, and walked out of the shop, determined this time not to balk. He would not balk. Blaine was counting on him. Maybe the bear would be a peace offering, to say all of the things he wanted to say and should have said, but didn’t have the courage.

     ______________________________________________________

“Perfect” didn’t quite cover the way he felt about his daughter. It was something more than perfection that he saw as he watched her sleep, her tiny hands curled into fists by her sides, her small chest rising and falling as she breathed. 

She was more like Kurt than like him, he noticed, in the shape of her face. But those eyelashes, eyelashes as long as a camel’s, could only have come from him, and from his mom through him. He wondered if her eyes would stay blue, or turn hazel, like his, in due time. A part of him hoped they wouldn’t.

Kurt hadn’t arrived yet. Or, if he had, he hadn’t been to see him. Blaine didn’t know what would have been worse; knowing he was coming and then have him not show up (the current predicament), or have him decide not to come at all so that he wouldn’t have to be disappointed.

Maybe he shouldn’t have counted on him coming. Maybe it had been stupid of him to  _hope_. What was that saying?  _Hope breeds eternal misery_ , or something like that. Whoever came up with that saying certainly wasn’t wrong.

“Knock knock,” a soft voice said from somewhere behind him. “The nurse I spoke to told me you were here.”

“ _Kurt_ ,” Blaine said his name on an intake of breath, a gasp of relief, delight, fear - and  _hope_. “Oh, my God. You came.”

“I did. Twice, actually. I ran the first time. Too much of a coward. But I’m here now. I got you something - well, it’s for the baby, really, but I thought it could maybe be a peace offering?" 

"For what?” Blaine asked, incredulous that  _Kurt_  thought he had to be the one to extend the olive branch. “I’m the one you should be mad at.”

“I’m not mad.” Kurt said, a little too quickly for Blaine’s comfort. “Really, I’m not mad. Disappointed, yes. Hurt, absolutely. I hate that you felt you had to lie to me about - all of this. I hate that you felt you couldn’t talk to me about it, that we’d got to that place where we  _couldn’t_  talk to each other about things like this. And most of all I hate knowing that part of it was my fault.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Blaine protested, shaking his head. “This was all me. I was the one who screwed up, not you.”

“It  _was_  my fault. I shut you out. I let you think I hated you, that I wanted nothing to do with you. I created a space between us where we couldn't  _talk_  to each other, where we didn’t feel safe or comfortable to share all the stuff we wanted to. And there was stuff I wanted to tell you, too. Things I couldn’t bring myself to say because I kept hoping that one morning I’d just wake up, and they wouldn’t be true anymore, and I’d stop feeling so damn  _miserable_  without you.”

Blaine can’t help it - tears spring to his eyes, blurring his vision so that everything becomes a little fuzzy round the edges. What had he ever done to deserve someone so amazing and so caring and so…. _alive_  as Kurt? Someone who was both a breath of fresh air and a solid foundation in his life, who brought both change and stability into it. “You really are one of a kind, Kurt.”

“I’ve been told that’s the case.” Kurt replied, “Personally, I think flattery gets you nowhere. Except maybe when it comes from you.”

“I really missed you.”

“I really missed, you, too.”

Kurt hesitated for a second, but only for a second - then he was crossing the room in large strides, unable to see clearly through the tears threatening to spill over onto his cheeks, and throwing his arms around Blaine, holding him as tightly as he dared. 

“I’m sorry.”

“I love you.”

They both spoke at the same time, both laughed at the same time at having spoken at the same time; when they pulled away, both their faces were wet from tears. 

“I love you.” Kurt repeated. “I was stupid to think I could ever convince myself otherwise. But we have a lot of stuff to talk about. Things that need to be done. We can’t rush into this. It’s not just us, now.” Kurt turned to where their daughter slept peacefully, unaware of the emotions running high between her parents. “It’s about her, too. God, she’s beautiful.”

“Of course she is,” Blaine said matter-of-factly.“She looks just like you.”

“Again with the flattery,” Kurt pointed out. “I see you haven’t changed.”

“Just stating the obvious,” Blaine replied, moving closer to Kurt and leaning his head on his shoulder. He felt strangely elated, like he was hovering a few inches off the ground, his toes skimming the sterilized floor of the room. He wasn’t, of course. But it felt like he was made of air and nothing else. It was a nice feeling. A happy feeling. 

Kurt linked their fingers together, and was surprised at how warm Blaine’s hand was. It felt exactly the same as it always had done, like coming home after a long day and sinking into a soft mattress. It had always been that way with Blaine. 

Yes, they still had a lot to work out, and it wouldn’t be easy. But Kurt felt optimistic that they could get through the pain and the hurt and the guilt to what lay underneath - the indisputable fact that they loved each other. And then there was their daughter, this perfect little girl that was half Kurt and half Blaine, who had come into their lives so suddenly and so unexpectedly but was already an important factor in whatever decision they chose to make. 

Kurt chose Blaine. He’d always chosen Blaine. He only hoped that Blaine would choose him, too.

                  ____________________________________

              _Burt Hummel and Carole Hudson-Hummel are proud to_

_announce the birth of their granddaughter_ _  
_

_GABRIELLA ELIZABETH HUMMEL-ANDERSON_

_born 2nd June 2013 at 2:38am_ _  
_

_*_

_Jonathan Anderson and Adrianna Anderson are proud_

_to announce the birth of their granddaughter_

_GABRIELLA ELIZABETH HUMMEL-ANDERSON_

_born 2nd June 2013 at 2:38am_

**THE END.**


End file.
